


Mama Teresa’s

by major_general



Category: Daredevil (TV), Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: Gen, Humor, New Yorkers, Pizza, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 02:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20381992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/major_general/pseuds/major_general
Summary: We all know who makes the best pizza





	Mama Teresa’s

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarthTofu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthTofu/gifts).

> I started with the prompt “College era, Matt has to learn to tolerate Foggy, the snoring, cleanliness, especially his taste in food, without revealing his super senses. Bonus points if there are impassioned arguments about good pizza.” And then I ran with the pizza thing.
> 
> I also really paid attention to this stipulation: I'm allergic to most things romance/sex lol, but I ADORE deep friendships/platonic love… or even rivalries/enemies. If Peter Parker gets involved somehow, absolutely ONLY Aunt May (and Ben Parker) is allowed to be a parental figure. 
> 
> I hope you like it, DarthTofu

There was never anyone in Mama Teresa’s, but the pizza was amazing. Every once in a while, Jack would take Matty there and they’d each have a slice. It was the best. The crust was thin, but not too thin, with just enough dough to hold the sauce, which was flavored perfectly. And the cheese? Well, years later, Matt was struck by how unlikely it was that a shop that had so few customers was able to get such high quality cheese. Clearly imported, flavorful cheese. Not long after that, he realized why. But somehow that didn’t matter to him. There were times when he’d be sitting in his room at the orphanage and someone would walk by who’d clearly just had a slice. The smell was almost unbearable as his mouth watered and he was brought back to those happy days with his dad. When he was a teenager, he managed to get away and grab a slice for himself every so often and each slice was heaven. He’d smell it on himself and his clothes for days and start planning his next trip to the pizza place.

College wasn’t so different from the orphanage. At least not at night. When the whole dorm was asleep, it reminded him of home. There were some differences. No one was having sex at the orphanage. And everyone there smelled of the same foods that the nuns served out. Here there was a melange of smells wafting in from the other rooms. Sure, there were some consistancies in terms of what the dining hall had that day, but West Harlem had a whole different range of take out and it took some getting used to. Thankfully the deli meat smell that permeated his roommate’s everything faded after a month, but it really was no surprise when Foggy confessed that his parents wanted him to be a butcher.

The only problem was the dining hall pizza. Foggy would eat it like it actually tasted good. Like the overly doughy crust and bland sauce and cheap cheese food that could only be called mozarella style--not actual mozzarella--could somehow be called pizza. It was bad enough that the smell permeated the dorm and classrooms on the days they would serve it, but the problem was Foggy. He reeked of that substandard excuse for food. Matt reached his breaking point when Foggy brought home a few slices one day.

“Foggy, why would you bring that here?”

“What?”

“The thing purporting to be pizza?”

“I need to stay up late to finish my political theory paper. Are you done yours?”

“Yeah, but the pizza?”

“I’ll need a midnight snack! And what better snack is there than pizza?” he said, the smile evident in his voice.

Matt shook his head, “That can hardly be called pizza.”

Foggy feigned insult, “it’s got dough and cheese and sauce. What else does it need to be a pizza?”

“Foggy, no,” Matt dismayed. “Foggy, you’re a New Yorker. You can’t say things like that. You are bringing a bad name to all of us and betraying your people.”

“What?”

“Pizza is sacred and what you have there is an abomination. It’s an insult. It is practically blasphemy to call that pizza.”

“You are a pizza snob.”

“What? No!”

“You are definitely a pizza snob.”

“I’m a New Yorker and I feel about pizza the way that New Yorkers are supposed to feel and that? Is not pizza.”

“Pizza’s pizza.”

“Oh, Foggy, no. You have to know what good pizza actually is.”

Foggy smiled, “Of course I do. I’m just arguing that there is a range from shitty pizza that is pizza and fulfils the basic needs of the eater to good pizza that satisfies you.”

“Bu what about great pizza, phenomenal pizza? Pizza that puts all other cheese, sauce, dough combinations to shame so that their makers all bow down and admit that what they have made is not really pizza at all?”

“There is no such thing.”

“Yes, there is. Have you ever been to Mama Teresa’s?”

“On 51st?” Foggy was shaken, “What are you crazy? I don’t want to die.”

“You don’t get killed for buying pizza, Foggy.”

“But Matt, you know who owns that don’t you?”

“Of course I know. But the cheese, Foggy, the cheese.”

“You want to take your life in your hands, go ahead. I’m not that crazy.”

“You gotta trust me, Foggy. It’s safe and we are going on Saturday. And you are never going to call that crap you have there pizza again.”

Matt savored every groan of pleasure that Foggy let out as he ate his slice that Saturday, but Foggy’s concession that what the dining hall made was “pizza food” was the real victory. A week later, they were back in Hell’s Kitchen for another slice.

It’s not like he was avoiding taking down the Carbone crime family. He had other priorities. He had to fight Fisk, and the Hand, and Fisk again. People who were actually committing crimes in Hell’s Kitchen, not just running a pizza place to launder money. People who were doing harm to his city. The Carbones only owned one pizza place. One glorious pizza place. Matt had to deal with the most pressing problems affecting his city. That didn’t stop other people from noticing. And bringing it up.

“With the way that 51st has been gentrifying,” Karen said one morning, “You’d think Mama Teresa’s would be forced to close or move, but it hasn’t done that. There's no way a place with that little business manages to stay afloat.”

Matt did his best to look busy.

“You know why that is,” Foggy stated.

She smiled, “Because it has the best pizza and we absolutely must get it for lunch.”

“No,” Foggy said, “I mean yes, but that’s not its secret for success.” Foggy’s face became puzzled. “Tell me you know this already.”

“Know what?”

Matt cut in, “That it’s a mob front.”

“What?” Karen’s heartbeat sped up and her voice took on that quality it did when she was feeling threatened or betrayed. “And we’ve been getting our pizza there?”

“It’s the best pizza in Manhattan, Karen!” Foggy shook his head. “No, it is the best pizza in every single one of the five boroughs which means it is the best pizza in the world.”

“But we are contributing to the success of organized crime, Foggy. Matt, you can’t be ok with this.”

Matt sighed, “My dad used to take me there when I was a kid. He was definitely collecting payments for the fights he threw, but still the pizza is fantastic. And they do their business in other parts of the city.”

Karen scoffed and then promptly ignored them for a week before coming back with evidence that pointed towards the Carbones operating in Hell’s Kitchen. It was just enough to activate matt’s sense of justice and push it over his sense of the sacred. It looked like Nelson, Murdock, Page and Daredevil had a new special case. 

The first thing that happened is that Foggy and Karen made him go talk to other vigilantes that might have information on the Carbones.

Jessica, smelling like a dollar slice from the Best Pizza, told him to stick it up his ass and that she didn’t keep track of the mafia. She also yelled at him for being an asshole and playing dead. He tried to tell her that he was actually severely injured, but she basically said that she wanted nothing to do with any other powered people unless they could figure out how to prove that the Sokovia Accords were unconstitutional and that the Raft counted as cruel and unusual punishment. He said he’d get on that and offered to buy her a drink. She kicked him out of her place after telling him to talk to Luke.

Luke had clearly bought a bunch of pies from Patsy’s within the last week. His office had just enough of the smell that it hadn’t left but those pies weren’t from the last day or two. He told Matt that he’d chased the Carbones out of Harlem, which was probably why they were now doing business in Hell’s Kitchen. He told Matt to talk to Misty.

Misty was not very friendly. Matt came to her as Matt and not Daredevil, but she knew him from Midland Circle and was not very happy with any lawyers that might be hanging around Luke these days. Matt could understand that. He certainly felt like he needed to look into whatever Luke was up to but, again, his priorities were in Hell’s Kitchen, not Harlem. Matt asked her to contact Brett, that he’d vouch for Nelson, Murdock, and Page.

“If he’d vouch for you, why didn’t you just ask him?”

“Luke told me to ask you. I’m sure there was a reason for that. My partner will ask Brett if we need to.”

She took out her phone and gave Brett a call. “Yeah, hello, this is Detective Misty Knight. I’m calling for a reference. Checking out someone. There’s this lawyer, Matt Murdock--”

“Give him whatever he asks for.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“He’s one of the guys that helped us take down Fisk. If he’s looking into someone or something, you want him on your side. Give him what he needs.” Brett hung up on her.

“Rude,” she said.

“So what have you got for me?” Matt asked.

“How do I know that you don’t have Mahoney in your pocket?”

“I promise you. Brett’s one of the good ones. Like you.”

“Don’t butter me up. I’ll send you a few files, but if you came from Luke, maybe you should talk to Colleen.”

“Who?”

“Colleen Wing, she’s down in Lower Manhattan. Used to date Danny Rand.”

“I’ll check it out. Thank you, Detective. Let me know if Nelson, Murdock, and Page can be of any assistance to you in the future.”

Her body language clearly said leave, so he did.

Colleen lived down near the Manhattan Bridge. She was not really happy to see him.

“You!” She accused, “You’re the bastard who died and made Danny think he had a mission to take care of the whole city. What are you doing here?”

“I was told by Det. Misty Knight that you might have some information about the Carbone family?”

“Misty sent you? Does she know who you really are?”

“I’m a lawyer?”

“And a vigilante bastard trained by the Chaste.”

“That too, but don’t spread it around. There are far too many people who know that. It’s supposed to be a secret identity.” Matt could feel the panic setting in but he pushed against it. Foggy would want him to. Allies are helpful.

“Why do you want to know about the Carbones?”

“They are operating in Hell’s Kitchen,” he said. “I don’t like that. I’m trying to stop it. Even if that means losing the best pizza place on the planet.”

“Where’s that?”

“Mama Teresa’s? On 51st.”

“No way it’s better than Joe’s.”

“In the West Village?”

“Yep.”

“No, Mama’s has got that place beat.” 

“Look, you come to Joe’s and I’ll tell you what I know.”

Later, Matt admitted that Joe’s was good, but nothing compared to Mama Teresa’s and he had some new leads that he was going to have to check out as Daredevil and not Matt Murdock.

As Matt was staking out a warehouse later that night, a boy smelling of public school pizza and some kind of technology landed next to him out of nowhere. 

“Oh my G-d! You’re the Daredevil! The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen! I am so honored to meet you Mr. Devil, sir.”

Matt shook his head, “Kid, I’m on a stakeout here. Would you mind keeping it quiet?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Devil, sir. Who are we staking out?”

Matt sighed, “I’m staking out the Carbones. You are going home to do your homework.”

“It’s done already! I’m not allowed to--I mean, I don’t have homework, sir. I am clearly an adult. It’s Spider-MAN not Spider-Boy, you know.”

“Look, Spider-Child, you need to leave and let the grown-ups handle this. What are you even doing here?”

“I followed a truck from Queens. Bad guys. Up to no good. You think they are with the Carbones?”

“Kid, I am not your guardian and I am not taking responsibility if you get hurt. Go home.”

“My guardian knows I’m doing this. I swear she does.”

“But you are not doing it in Hell’s Kitchen. Go back to Queens and leave this to me.”

“Ugh,” he whined. “Look, I’m an Avenger I can help.”

“Well then go fight some aliens and leave this to me.”

It took another 45 minutes to get the kid to leave.

In the end it didn’t take that much, Brett happily arrested Rosalie Carbone and her crew. Mama Teresa’s closed the next month. Matt’s conscience said he did the right thing but every other lesser slice he ate told him that he’d done wrong. Maybe he’d just never eat pizza again.

Not long after Mama’s shut down, Matt came home from patrol to find a pizza in his kitchen. He immediately called Foggy.

“Foggy, there is a Hawaiian pizza in my apartment.”

“Why would you do that to yourself.”

“I didn’t. Someone who smells like death and Mexican food left it here.”

“What?”

“Why would someone leave me a pizza? A pineapple pizza?”

“With ham.”

“I think it might actually be spam.” Matt sniffed the air. “Yeah, spam.”

“Is there no clue?”

“I think I might smell a Post-It. Hold on.” He took the sticky off the pizza box and felt it. “They wrote a note in magic marker.”

“Well, you can’t read that.”

“Pineapple, Foggy? Why would someone do this? Foggy? Foggy, stop laughing. Foggy!”


End file.
